


Bay

by aderyn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: longing howling & hunting, man & beast, urban wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aderyn/pseuds/aderyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“All your secrets John, and that’s —are you sure I’m not the beast?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bay

**Author's Note:**

> For [wiggleofjudas](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wiggleofjudas/pseuds/wiggleofjudas) and their [wolf-John in the wilderness](http://archiveofourown.org/works/752877/chapters/1417525).  
> And [BlackMorgan!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/708016)

_The city has always been a wilderness, a den of tigers, wolves, ravens, ravenings. It’s a metaphor, but not quite, because we haven’t worn the wild out, or off, no matter what we think._

Yes, John thinks, two-fingered, keys clicking back like nails.

_And we do think._

_Sherlock thinks in tracks, in scents, in spoor, in the leavings of the last to pass, to brush its trace against a corner and ensure …_

“Its capture,” Sherlock says, smirks, slaps shut the little den, sinks his fingers

where the carotid hits the hyoid.

“All your secrets John, and that’s—are you sure I’m not the beast?”

Bright, that tooth, that grip, that bite. So easy to long for the wild, the deep green at the heart of the park and the desolate in all that flash, that spin, that _run with me run with me run with me_.

Sherlock’s smile is beak and clutch, his mouth a haunt, a scout.

“A thief,” he says and slips, hands hot as musk to mark.

A neck. A smoke. One quick stroke to the blade of the coat, and go.

There’s a half-heart moon in Marylebone; full howl though, John thinks, to tilt your head, and cock, take aim--

It isn’t as though he’d try to hold him, no. 

Can’t enclose the beast, enfold the bird.

**Author's Note:**

> "Beyond lay another dull wilderness of bricks and mortar, its silence broken only by the heavy, regular footfall of the policeman, or the songs and shouts of some belated party of revellers."—ACD,“The Man with the Twisted Lip”
> 
> “It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside."—ACD,“The Adventure of the Copper Beeches”
> 
> cac•o•e•thes: an irresistible urge, mania, desire; in medicine, for something potentially dangerous.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cacoethes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/937491) by [Moranion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moranion/pseuds/Moranion)




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